We should invite him to swim, mom says,
but stay outside, so I won’t have to feed him.
Tony keeps his glasses on even in the pool
and his swim trunks are the shorts
he wears to school.
His father went to hell,
be nice to him, talk to him
about the Lord.
His goofy laugh embarrasses me,
the way he lets everyone see him happy.
He doesn’t have a towel
and hogs the inner tube.
I hate the hair under his arms.
I hate when he splashes me in the face.